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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070501">To Our Good Health in These Trying Times</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandaloria593/pseuds/Mandaloria593'>Mandaloria593</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Post-Epiosde: s02e08 The Rescue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:27:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandaloria593/pseuds/Mandaloria593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Boba knew the erstwhile smuggler was here to negotiate on behalf of the New Republic. The regurgitated government was fumbling like a first-day foal, struggling to maintain its footholds in the Outer Rim.</p><p>"Wouldn’t you look better on my wall, Solo?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boba Fett &amp; Han Solo, Din Djarin &amp; Boba Fett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Our Good Health in These Trying Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this to persuade my friends to love Han Solo, or at least to tolerate him, but I might have been too soft on Boba to achieve that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Long time, no see, Fett.”</p><p>The man’s easygoing grin and cocked hip reeked of misplaced confidence. It was as though he imagined he had the right to stand here in front of Boba’s throne. As if he thought Boba wouldn’t string him up and feed him to the sarlacc at his first wrong move. </p><p>His first wrong move was coming here at all.</p><p>Boba knew the erstwhile smuggler was here to negotiate on behalf of the New Republic. The regurgitated government was fumbling like a first-day foal, struggling to maintain its footholds in the Outer Rime. The New Republic was attempting to tame it, to bring its wildness to heel. You’d have better luck training a krayt dragon.</p><p>Boba greeted him by saying exactly what he was thinking. He was king of this domain now, and he had no need for obfuscation. “Wouldn’t you look better on my wall, Solo?”</p><p>At Han’s side, Chewbacca roared a warning. Solo’s jaw dropped a little at the crass joke, duly intended to trigger bad memories. But then Solo shifted his weight to his other hip and refreshed his smirk. “The General thought we should send a familiar face.”</p><p>“It’s more familiar when it’s not moving. And better looking that way, too.” </p><p>Han gave a shallow, mocking bow, angling his shoulders down but keeping his chin up. It was less a show of respect than a middle-finger to Boba’s face.</p><p>“What do you want, Solo?” Boba asked with a sigh, even though he could hazard a guess. Aid. Peacekeeping aid. The dispute on the neighboring planet was getting to be a thorn in the New Republic’s side. Boba hadn’t yet decided if he was going to help or not. A lot of slaves were dying at the hands of the squabbling mining syndicates. The New Republic was too overstretched and understaffed to bring a swift end to the conflict. Fennec wanted to intervene. Boba did too, but he didn’t want the New Republic thinking he was doing them any favors. </p><p>“Situation’s getting dicey,” Solo admitted, one hand on his hip, the other waving around the palace room. “You’ve got yourself a good setup here. People are flocking to this place like you’re giving away flagons of savareen. Why don’t you help us out? It’d be mutually beneficial. They are your neighbors, after all.”</p><p>Boba tilted his helmet to glare down at Solo. “So you’re just a neighbor here to borrow a cup of jawa juice? Is that it?” </p><p>Solo shrugged. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”</p><p>Boba barked out a laugh. “Fine.” He gestured to his valet to pour out three glasses of savareen brandy. The valet offered the first glass to Boba, then scampered down the steps to offer the other two glasses to Solo and Chewbacca. “To your good health,” Boba said, raising his glass.</p><p>“To yours,” Solo rejoined, lifting his glass as well.</p><p>The Wookiee roared and tipped the drink back, downing it in one gulp. Solo followed suit.</p><p>Boba then rose from his throne and began to walk to the side where there were tables and booths. He inclined his helm to invite Solo and Chewbacca to join him. They sat at a large, round table, but not so large that Chewbacca couldn’t reach out and rip Boba’s arm off if he really wanted to. It was the only concession Boba was willing to make. With a hiss of air, Boba unclasped and removed his helmet. He sat it on the table. The three of them regarded one another warily. </p><p>Solo started, “I lik--”</p><p>“If you say ‘I like what you’ve done with the place,’ I’ll have you thrown out immediately,” Boba warned. </p><p>Solo’s right cheek puffed out, likely biting off a laugh. “What’s your plan?”</p><p>Boba swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “What makes you think I have a plan? I haven’t decided if I’m going to do anything yet.”</p><p>Solo folded his hands on the stone tabletop. “I thought this was going to be an easy assignment. Take a few days to fly to this scuzzball planet. Have a drink with you. Talk about old times and how shitty they were. Talk about how we’re both still breathing, despite how many people tried hard to make it otherwise. And then--”</p><p>“You’re one of the people who tried to make it otherwise,” Boba interjected.</p><p>Solo actually winced. “Yeah. Well. I was still mostly blind. So sue me. The New Republic’s courts are up and running, even out here.”</p><p>“I’d never see a credit if you’re paying. That’s why I prefer to trade in more...tangible goods.” Boba’s eyes flicked to the back wall, where indeed he had a rival or two frozen in carbonite. He wanted to see Solo squirm. </p><p>He got what he wanted, as he always did.</p><p>Solo’s gaze tracked the turn of Boba’s head, and he paled at recognizing the dark blocks of frozen screams, multi-colored bio-lights blinking in the dull promise that the torment was only temporarily paused. Chewbacca growled. </p><p>Solo pulled at the too-high collar at his neck and cleared his throat. “Ever the charmer.” </p><p>“You want charm? Go to Dantooine. You want mercs and an iron fist? Then you’ve come to the right place.”</p><p>“I want--<em> we </em> want support. You’re a stabilizing force in this region. So stabilize it.”</p><p>“It’s not my territory,” Boba countered, shaking his head dismissively. Not his turf, not his problem.</p><p>“Do you want it to be?” Solo asked, like he was genuinely curious.</p><p>It made Boba chuckle. “Is the New Republic handing out stripes to people like me now? I’m flattered. But no thanks.”</p><p>“Not what I meant, but nice to know it’s on your radar,” Solo said breezily. “What I meant was, now that you’ve taken Jabba’s stomping grounds, er, <em> slithering </em> grounds, are you done? Or are you expanding the family business?”</p><p>Boba snorted and finished the last of his drink. “It’s not a family business anymore.”</p><p>Solo stretched, and Chewbacca looked at him questioningly. “Oh, I don’t know. I hear the slaves you’ve freed tend to hang around.”</p><p>“People tend to hang around where they’re welcomed and not treated like property,” Boba said shortly.</p><p>Solo leaned forward across the table, eyes mischievous. “See? You say that like a threat, but it’s actually all mushy at the heart of it. You turn into a good person while I wasn’t looking?”  </p><p>“Not <em> good,” </em> Boba denied. But nowadays he moved in circles with people he’d call good. People like Din Djarin. “Just practical.”</p><p>“I like practical,” Solo declared, raising his now-empty glass. </p><p>Boba wondered if Solo was in contact with Djarin, too. The Darksaber-carrying Mandalorian was allegedly off with his green child, with the Jedi training both of them—the child to wield the Force and Djarin to wield that saber without slicing off a hand he didn’t want to slice. But Boba’s informants on that front were parched for information, and Djarin hadn’t been in touch in a shade too long. Boba could fish for details from Solo. He’d ease into it gradually. Best not to give away that Boba actually cared about any particular inhabitants of the universe. It’d only put those people at risk. “How’s the Princess?”</p><p>“General now,” Solo corrected, but he smiled the dopey smile of a man in the flush of love. “She’s good. Strong.”</p><p>“She was always strong,” Boba corrected back at him, thinking of how while he’d been getting bumped into the Pit of Carkoon, the Princess had been strangling the life out of the Hutt. Princess. General. Whatever. Around here, she would always be known as the Huttslayer. “You two create any little terrors yet?”</p><p>“Working on it,” Solo allowed, while Chewbacca roared in amusement. “You gonna ask about Luke?”</p><p>Boba snapped his fingers, and their glasses were refilled. “Why would I?”</p><p>Solo’s answering grin was extremely irritating, and Boba wanted to punch him. “He’s with a friend of yours.”</p><p>“I don’t have friends,” Boba assured him.</p><p>“That might be true. Who would want to hang around with you?”</p><p>“Watch it,” Boba growled, and the sound of his displeasure resulted in a number of blasters being powered up at the edges of the shadows. Boba might not have a lot of friends, but he was never <em> alone. </em></p><p>Both of Solo’s palms were raised in the air. “Easy, easy.”</p><p>Boba tapped the targeting antenna on his helmet that was still on the table in front of him. “Easy to kill you, you mean.”</p><p>Solo’s own ‘guard’ roared. </p><p>Boba addressed Chewbacca directly. “You ever going to stop hanging around with this guy?” </p><p>Chewbacca shook his head, but he patted Solo roughly on the shoulder as if attempting to rein him in. It was an impossible task. For the entirety of the time in which Boba had known him, Solo couldn't help but make enemies wherever he went. Something about his smug face and brazen attitude invited loathing. And yet here he was on behalf of the peacekeeping republic, consort to a royal warrior goddess who’d evidently unearthed a shred of value in the man. </p><p>Solo remarked, “Your friend’s not like you.”</p><p>So he’d met him. “Not an asshole, you mean?”</p><p>Solo’s fingers circled the rim of his glass. “More honorable than either of us.”</p><p>“True,” he conceded, finding Solo’s implied admission that he was a scoundrel like Boba to be more agreeable than the notion of Solo having been redeemed by love for a fierce woman and an alliance of rebels. Boba had quietly embarked on his own redemption path, starting with Fennec, followed by Djarin and his child. But he was greedy, and he wanted it <em> all. </em> The power <em> and </em> the moral high-ground. He didn’t know yet if the two were compatible, but was determined to smash them together by sheer brute strength. The idea of being his own nuclear fusionist appealed to him.</p><p>Boba wanted to ask more, but he didn’t want to give Solo the satisfaction. He’d just have to push his informants harder. Or get Djarin to answer his damned comm.</p><p>To Boba’s surprise, Solo elaborated of his own volition. “They’re in the Unknown Regions. We haven’t heard from them in a while. I’m sure they’re okay. I mean, it’s <em> Luke, </em> you know?”</p><p>Boba did know. “And Grogu?” he felt safe inquiring after the little one, like it was less telling to be concerned about the welfare of a child than a grown man.</p><p>“The kid is with Leia right now,” Solo replied, leaning back comfortably now, as if he wasn’t still in danger every second he remained in Boba’s presence. “He likes learning. He likes food. He likes to be held.”</p><p>“Sounds ordinary enough.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Solo said. “I guess we all want those things.”</p><p>Chewbacca sounded his agreement.</p><p>Solo began fiddling in his vest pocket for something. Boba forced himself not to train his blaster on him, knowing his people were on it and knowing Solo wasn’t actually here to settle old scores.</p><p>Whatever Solo had retrieved from his pocket he placed on the table and slid over to Boba. It appeared to be a datastick.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“Information,” Solo answered readily. “Population densities. Mining ops. Troop patterns. Smuggling routes. Everything you’d need to know if you were to, say, launch a reconnaissance mission to check on a neighbor’s jawa juice supply.”</p><p>Boba tilted his head. “How presumptuous of you. We haven’t even had dinner yet.”</p><p>The arrogant di’kut had the nerve to <em> wink </em> at Boba. “You know me, Fett.”</p><p>Boba did know him, much to his permanent chagrin. And to his even greater frustration, Solo knew <em> him </em> well enough, too—well enough to have sussed out that Boba <em> was </em> going to take action and inadvertently help the New Republic with their little problem. </p><p>Boba drained the last of his liquor and placed his helmet back on his head. “Get out of here, Solo. Chewbacca. Before I change my mind.”</p><p>Solo graced him with another short bow that burned for its phony delivery. Solo wouldn’t know how to show proper respect even if Boba had him on his knees in shackles hovering above the Pit of Carkoon. It was <em> so </em>disappointing that wouldn’t be how today ended. But there was always another time. </p><p>As Solo and Chewbacca walked away, swagger undaunted, Solo tossed one more look back at Boba. “If I see your Mando before you do, I’ll give him your regards.”</p><p><em> He’s not my Mando, </em> was on the tip of his tongue. But he’d let the Princess’s new puppet think what he liked. There were worse things than people thinking he had the support of the new Mand’alor—worse things like people thinking Boba <em> cared.  </em></p><p>Boba didn’t deign to give Solo a parting response. He didn’t even watch him leave. He had people for that. Instead, he took the datastick and prepared to meet with Fennec. She’d want to oversee their incursion. As for Solo’s departure? Good riddance to bad rathtars. </p>
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